Chapter 35: Success and Retreat, Bountiful Rewards

Chapter 35: Success and Retreat, Bountiful Rewards

After a thorough search, Su Chen’s expression turned slightly grim. Aside from over a dozen silver coins, he hadn’t found the bandit leader’s cultivation techniques.

Truthfully, he had been eager to obtain the Third Chief’s martial arts. After all, this was his first encounter with a Vital Energy cultivator—the value of such techniques was immeasurable.

Unwilling to give up, he searched again, this time stripping the corpse bare. Unfortunately, there was still nothing.

Su Chen finally gave up, stood, and walked toward the group of bandits under a chorus of fearful gazes.

“Hand over your money, and I’ll let you live,” he said flatly, hoping to compensate for his earlier disappointment.

Though reluctant, the bandits prioritized survival. With pained expressions, they surrendered their coins. Su Chen collected another few dozen silver taels, tucked them away, and then picked up the Third Chief’s Broken Blade without another glance at the bandits.

As he turned to leave, one bandit hesitantly asked, “You promised to let us go…”

Su Chen paused, looked back, and replied, “I did. But now, it’s not my decision anymore.”

The bandits fell silent, realizing their new predicament.

As soon as Su Chen departed, Yan Que stepped forward. “Thank you for your help today. I’m Yan Que of the Broken Blade Sect. If you ever need anything, seek me out there.”

His tone shifted as he turned to the bandits. “Don’t kill us!” they pleaded, tears in their eyes. They’d barely escaped one wolf’s den only to face a tiger’s lair. Or perhaps they’d never truly left either.

“Where are our people and goods?” Yan Que demanded.

“In the mountains. We’ll take you there if you spare us!” one bandit blurted.

Yan Que said nothing, signaling his companions to count their numbers.

“Wait—where’s Su Chen?” Fang Rou suddenly gasped, her voice tight with worry. Moments later, she spotted him in the crowd and exhaled in relief. If anything had happened to him, she’d never face Hong Master again.

The tally concluded quickly. Aside from a few injured Fang Clan guards, most had escaped unscathed. The bandits, aside from the Third Chief, were simply outmatched in both numbers and strength.

Guided by their captives, Yan Que’s group soon recovered the abducted Fang Clan members and their stolen cargo. From the bandits’ confessions, they learned the full story: the gang had initially planned to ransom their hostages for gold, but the Third Chief’s greed for more had led to the confrontation.

“Master Yan, what should we do with these scum?” a cultivator asked after the rescue.

The bandits immediately dropped to their knees, begging for mercy with frantic pleas. Yan Que, however, remained unmoved. With a cold command, he ended their lives.

He knew Lianyun Fortress would never forgive this clash. With the Third Chief dead, leaving witnesses was reckless. He personally executed the remaining bandits, ensuring no loose ends.

Worried Lianyun might retaliate swiftly, the group left the mountains immediately.

Not long after their departure, chaos erupted in a distant fortress deep within the Lianyun Mountains.

“Report! Second Chief, it’s terrible!” A messenger sprinted into the courtyard, only to be slapped aside by a burly man mid-training.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?!” the man roared.

After steadying himself, the messenger clutched his reddened cheek and stammered, “The Third Chief… he’s dead!”

“What?!” The Second Chief grabbed his collar, eyes blazing with fury. “Where’s his body?”

“Outside the fortress gates.”

The Second Chief rushed out, where the First Chief stood silently beside a covered corpse. Lifting the cloth, he stared at his brother’s lifeless face, his own contorting with grief and rage.

“Big Brother… was it the Fang Clan? Fang Youwei?!”

The First Chief’s sorrow hardened into fury. “Fang Clan! Fang Youwei! You dare kill my brother and humiliate him? When Lianyun Fortress falls upon your city, your entire clan will perish!”

---

As dusk bathed the land in golden hues, Yan Que’s group arrived at White Stone City’s gates.

After fleeing the Lianyun Mountains, they’d ridden nonstop, reaching the city before nightfall. Paying the entrance fees, they entered, their shoulders easing with relief.

“Master Yan, Lady Fang, we’ll take our leave here,” one companion announced.

Yan Que nodded. “Thank you all for your efforts today.”

The cultivators exchanged farewells with clasped fists before departing.

“Su Chen, safe travels!” Fang Rou called out. Yan Que watched silently as the two exchanged parting words.

Soon, only the Fang Clan remained.

“Let’s return,” Yan Que said, smiling at Fang Rou.

Back at the Fang estate, Fang Youwei nearly collapsed from shock upon hearing their tale. Only when assured of Yan Que and Fang Rou’s safety did he relax.

“Brother-in-law, we owe you our lives,” he said gratefully.

Yan Que waved a hand. “We’re family. Besides, we wouldn’t have succeeded without that one-armed cultivator.”

“A cultivator capable of killing a Vital Energy practitioner? His strength is formidable. He must be renowned, yet I’ve never heard of such a one-armed cultivator in White Stone City.”

Yan Que shook his head. “He’s likely from the city. I heard the guards mention a one-armed man delivering Liu Tong’s severed head recently.”

---

After parting ways with Fang Rou’s group, Su Chen didn’t return home immediately. Instead, he visited the Gold Exchange, converting his silver into gold before heading back.

By nightfall, he entered his room, placing his spoils on the table: a broken longsword, ten gold taels, and sixty silver.

Suddenly, his body trembled. A flush spread across his face as he clutched his chest, coughing violently.

“I wonder if the Ultimate Turtle Shell Art can purge this lingering Vital Energy wound…”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end